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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785101">Intimate Moments</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyKatie/pseuds/SimplyKatie'>SimplyKatie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:40:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyKatie/pseuds/SimplyKatie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A small collection of personal moments shared by Bucky and his significant other at various points in their relationship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Wound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Can I see it?”</p><p>Bucky looks up, processing the interruption.  Methodically, he places his magazine on the end table,  face down to save his spot.  He studies the girl in the chair across from him, and then slowly grabs the bottom of his shirt and raises it just above his belly button.  </p><p>She flushes a bit - he still does that to her - and smirks.  “As much as I enjoy that view, you know that’s not what I mean.” </p><p>Bucky returns the smirk, and, resigned, raises his shirt to his chest, revealing a small square of gauze.  It sits taped on his left side just below his ribcage.  The area surrounding it is slightly brown with an old bruise.  It amazes her how small the bandage is compared to how big the consequences could have been if it were just slightly more toward his sternum.    </p><p>She rises quickly, and then restrains herself.  Curiously and tentatively, she walks toward her companion.  She reaches out two fingers and softly touches the skin below the wound.  She wants to pull back the gauze and inspect the area, but doesn’t think it would be appropriate to remove the bandage.   “Does it hurt badly?”</p><p>Bucky stays still, letting her examine the covered area.  “It’s a little sore.  I’ll live.”</p><p>“You saved my life,” she says.  She places her hand back at her side.  </p><p>“Hmm,” Buck acknowledges her statement, gauging her reaction.  He wants to reach out to her, run his thumb across her cheek, but she is just out of reach.  Instead, he lets her continue to worry over him.  </p><p>“He could have killed you,” she says, and though her voice remains even, he can sense that this statement carries a great deal more weight. </p><p>“No, he couldn’t have.”  Bucky is firm in his response.  “I am a trained combatant.  He was a common criminal wielding a weapon he doesn’t know how to handle.”</p><p>“He knew enough to pull the trigger.”</p><p>Bucky reaches out for her hand.  She meets him halfway, and he pulls her to himself.  She sits sideways across his lap, and he holds her hand, comfortingly running his thumb across the back of it.  “Baby, I hit him from the side.  He was headed toward you, and I lost my damn mind.  It was a gut reaction for both of us.”</p><p>Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she processes what he just said.  She looks down at the gauze again.  Her gaze drops lower to his perfectly formed, hard abdomen.  An idea forms in her mind.   Pulling her hand from his, she leans down and presses a light, soft kiss just below the wound.  Kissing can’t make everything better, but sometimes it can help.</p><p>She looks up to see if this is okay, but he says nothing, content to watch  She goes a little higher, kissing just under the base of his pec.  </p><p>Bucky smiles now, catching on to her game.  She returns his smile, then goes higher still, pulling his shirt up to land a kiss just over his heart.  This time, her lips linger.  The act is not meant to be sexy, but caring, intimate.  </p><p>He brings his hand down to rub his thumb across her cheek.  She brings her head against his heart, careful not to lean too heavily onto his body.  When his thumb grazes her bottom lip, she kisses the tip.  </p><p>“I don’t know what I would do without you,” she confesses.  “You mean the world to me.”</p><p>“I will take every bullet that comes your way,” Bucky replies, and there is a raw honesty to his voice.  Even if she didn’t already know it to be true, she would have believed him based on that alone.  “You are my world.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Doughnut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>3 a.m.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Couldn’t sleep?”  She turned on the under-cabinet lights, creating a soft glow to ease the darkness.  </p><p>Bucky’s figure illuminated.  Before, early in their relationship, his sitting alone in the dark would have startled her, perhaps even unnerved her a little.  Now it was simply something that happened on rare occasion.  </p><p>He ran a hand down his face.  “Having a little trouble tonight,” he admitted.  “What about you?”</p><p>“Bathroom.”  She rubbed her belly soothingly, embracing the evidence of their love for each other.  “Maybe a little midnight snack.”  Reaching for the box of leftover doughnuts on the counter, she searched for the last maple bar.  She had purposely saved one for just this occasion.  They were her favorite, after all, and her current craving.  </p><p>“Bucky,” her eyebrows furrowed.  “Where’s the maple -” She looked up to see her dear husband, bless his heart, biting into her maple bar.  </p><p>He had the decency to look ashamed and broke the doughnut into two pieces of considerably different sizes.  She snagged the larger piece and took a rather large, quick bite, glaring daggers at her beloved.  </p><p>He couldn’t help but smirk; she was cute when she scowled.  </p><p>This only added to her irritation.  </p><p>“I’ll pick up some more tomorrow,” he promised.  </p><p>“Please don’t,” she replied, replacing the irritation with defeat.  “If I continue to eat like this, I’ll add to my stretch marks.”</p><p>Bucky pulled her in close with a hand about her waist.  He rubbed his hands on her shoulders, comfortingly.  “I love those stretch marks,” he told her.  She started to roll her eyes, but he continued, “Those stretch marks are sexy.  Do you know why?” </p><p>She couldn’t quite meet his eyes even though she knew he was about to say something that would melt her heart.  That was her Bucky, the charming romantic.   </p><p>“Those stretch marks are proof that you love me enough to have my child.” He kissed her forehead then, letting his lips linger on her brow. </p><p>She did look up at him then, studying his face for signs of teasing or insincerity.  There were none.  </p><p>Smiling, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her forehead on his chest.  How was it that she had come to find such an incredible, caring, loving, and attractive man?  And he was all hers.  </p><p>They held each other for a few moments before she put all of her feelings into a simple “I love you.”</p><p>“I love you, too,” he replied, and kissed the crown of her head.  </p><p>“Maybe just one more box,” she said.  </p><p>Bucky laughed as she pulled away, stifling a yawn.  “Shall we go to bed?” he asked.  </p><p>“Probably,” He put a hand on the small of her back, beginning to guide her to the bedroom.  </p><p>She stopped after just a few steps and threw a hand to her belly.  “Bucky!” </p><p>The surprise of her actions startled him.  “What’s wrong?” He moved in front of her and eyed her belly, looking for signs of distress or other unwellness.  </p><p>“Baby, feel,” she said, and grabbed her husband’s hand, guiding it gently over her stomach.  “Right here.”  She applied a little pressure to his fingers.  </p><p>After just a moment, he felt it.  “Was that a kick?” </p><p>“Yes!” she exclaimed, excited. </p><p>“Well I’ll be,” Bucky said, stunned.  He held his hand there, amazed at what power such a tiny body could create. </p><p>“I didn’t know it was possible,” he told her, “to love a person so much even before they were born.”</p><p>With her other hand, she caressed his cheek.  “Are you still scared to be a father?”  </p><p>“Terrified might be an understatement,” he admitted. “But the more I get used to the idea, the more excited I get.”</p><p>She ran a hand through his hair.  “You’re going to be great.  I can’t wait to see it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a fight</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky half stumbled up to the driveway, his head swimming slightly from the alcohol Steve had given him.  It had been a fun day of competition at work.  Games of throwing knives, shooting targets, placing bets on who could lift the most weight, as well as several games had lightened the mood.  They had decided to continue the spontaneous festivities over drinks.  That was a few hours ago.  </p><p>Bucky tried the door handle to the house he and his fiance had just bought, only to find it locked.  Frowning, he patted his jacket and pants pockets.  His wallet was in the left pocket of his leather jacket, his jeans held his phone, but keys were nowhere to be found.  Knowing his future wife should be home, he knocked.  </p><p>After waiting an appropriate length of time, Bucky assumed she hadn’t heard, and tried knocking one more time.  </p><p>Nothing.  With a sigh, Bucky walked to the front window.  It, too, was locked.  He couldn’t be too irritated with this fact; safety was a top concern in the Barnes household.  However, when Bucky peaked inside, he could just see past the living area to his fiance, who was at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes for the night’s dinner. </p><p>He knocked on the window, but she didn’t turn around.  The water was running, so he assumed she couldn’t hear.  </p><p>Bucky turned toward the fence that blocked off the backyard.  His head wobbled a bit, and he took a moment to steady himself.  The drinks that Steve had poured for him sure were strong.  They had to be to give him any kind of buzz.  Thinking back, he probably should have stopped after the first one.  </p><p>Bucky entered the gate and jumped when it slammed shut behind him.  He walked up to the sliding glass doors attached to the dining room and, after finding them locked, knocked again.  Still, his fiance didn’t move.  She had finished peeling the potatoes and turned off the water. </p><p>His fiance grabbed a kitchen towel and dried her hands, then took a knife from the counter and began quartering the potatoes for boiling.  She was ignoring him.  </p><p>Bucky, in his alcohol induced state, hadn’t yet realized this fact.  He briefly considered picking the lock, but this would alert the security system, and he didn’t want to explain to the security company that he drunkenly lost his keys.  Instead, he rapped on the glass door one last time, a little harder and a little longer.  The glass gave a groan.   </p><p>After a few moments, his fiance finally looked at him.  His face was scrunched in confusion as he said,  “Babe, the door is locked.  Can you let me in?”</p><p>There was no mistaking the furious look on her face.  She returned to peeling the potatoes.  </p><p>Bucky tried the door again as if to prove a point.  “Baby, let me inside, please.”  </p><p>His fiance violently wiped her hands on the kitchen towel, and then huffed a deep breath, as if her patience for dealing with idiots had emptied long ago.  She sharply turned and marched to the door, stopping inches away.  “Where is your phone?” she asked curtly.</p><p>Bucky pulled it from his pocket, confusion plain on his face.  “Right here?” It was phrased as a question.  Why did she want to know where his phone was?</p><p>"Is it working?"</p><p>"Yes?" Bucky didn't like where this was going.</p><p>“So let me get this straight.  You are three hours late getting home from work, and you couldn’t call to let me know?”</p><p>Even drunk, Bucky sensed danger ahead.  “I was having drinks with the team.”</p><p>His fiance put her hands on her hips.  Her nostrils flared, and Bucky had the impression that if it were possible to breath fire, she would have burned the whole place down.  “I know you were.  You know how I know?  I called <em>every</em> emergency number I could think of until Sam finally told me where you were.” </p><p>Bucky thought this was a little extreme, but he wasn’t about to tell her so.  Instead, he said, “Baby, why don’t you let me in so we can talk about this.”</p><p>His fiance huffed.  “James Buchanan Barnes, do you know how worried I was that something had happened to you?  You are never more than ten minutes late coming home.  And if you are, you always message me first.”</p><p>James had the sense to look slightly guilty, but she continued before he could apologize.  “It’s bad enough that I have to worry about you every time you go on mission or each time you leave the house.  I can’t even watch the news anymore, because if there’s a shooting or an explosion or a hostage situation or anything else bad going on, I picture you getting in there and playing hero.  I don’t care that you went for drinks, but how damn hard it is to pick up the fucking phone!” Her volume increased with each word.</p><p>At this point, she was pacing back and forth, practically burning holes in the hardwood floor.  Bucky watched her sheepishly, a man properly scolded.  He could hear her muttering to herself, picking up on words like <em>selfish bastard</em> and <em>worried sick</em>. A pit developed in his stomach.  If roles were reversed, he would be furious as well.   </p><p>Finally, when she had exhausted most of her anger, his fiance stopped pacing and looked at Bucky through the window.  He stood with his arms as his sides, looking forlorn.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I wasn’t thinking.  I should have called.”  </p><p>She exhaled the rest of her anger and reached for the lock.  Bucky opened the door and stepped inside.  After a moment's hesitation, he said, “I didn’t realize how much you worried over me.”</p><p>His fiance replied, “Of course I worry over you.  I love you, you big dumb jerk.”  </p><p>Normally this was the time where he would tease her for her ability to form insults, but now it didn’t seem appropriate.  Closer in the light, he could see that her eyes were slightly red and puffy.  </p><p>“Oh, sweetheart, come here,” he sighed, pulling her in for a hug.  He wrapped one arm tightly around her while the other held the back of her head, stroking her hair as she leaned against his chest.  “I’m so sorry.  I’ll call next time, I promise.”</p><p>“Thank you.”  She held on to him tight, thankful he was okay.  “I had half a mind to throw all of your things outside.”</p><p>“I’m glad you didn’t,” Bucky suppressed a chuckle.  </p><p>They held each other like that for a few moments, until the fire alarm caught steam and blared, reminding her of the boiling potatoes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Swim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a hot day</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She dipped her fingers in the water, swirling them around to enjoy the cool feeling on her skin.  </p><p>Days like this were her favorite.  The sun cast its light upon the city, high and mighty in the sky.  The accompanying heat drove the majority of the living indoors.  There was only one way to enjoy temperatures this high; one had to find a body of water and refuse to leave it until the sun gave up for the day.  </p><p>Bucky and she had their cool body of water installed in the form of a saltwater pool shortly after moving in.  It was nothing special, with four blue-tiled walls in the shape of a rectangle, no slide or diving board, and an entry point on both ends.  It was, however, long enough that doing laps for enough time would provide a decent work out.  </p><p>That was how Bucky was choosing to spend his time in the pool.  The steady splash of his arms meeting water created a rhythm like the ticking of a clock.  She relished the sound. He was close by, they were safe, and she was content.  Everything was perfect.  </p><p>Well, almost everything.  She was also beginning to burn. </p><p>Annoyed by the interruption in her relaxation, she moved her sunglasses into place, took a sip from her wine tumbler, and hopped off her floatie.  The cool water, reaching just above her belly, felt like ice against her sun-kissed skin.  </p><p>The movement distracted Bucky from his workout, and he popped up from the water.  “Doing okay?” he asked, wiping the water from his face. </p><p>“Just need some sunscreen,” she responded, climbing up the pool stairs.  “And a refill.”  She shook her tumbler.  </p><p>“Need some help?” Bucky removed his goggles.  He swiped his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face. </p><p>“Get my back?” she asked.  </p><p>Bucky admired her form as she exited the pool, water cascading down her legs.  He followed her out, pausing to grab his water bottle and rehydrate.</p><p>She poured more of her drink first.  Priorities.  Then she handed the sunscreen to Bucky.  He took his time rubbing the lotion into her back and shoulders, relishing in the physical touch.  He noticed how soft her skin was and enjoyed the way she got goosebumps when he lightly touched her sides.  Even after the lotion was gone, he continued to work her up using his hands.  </p><p>She leaned back into his touch.</p><p>Was that a <em>moan</em>? </p><p>Bucky smirked and pulled his hands away.  “My turn.”  </p><p>She sprayed his back and took her turn rubbing in the lotion.  Her hands started by his neck, rubbing small circles down onto his shoulders and softly running her hands down his biceps.   Then she ran her fingers down the hard muscle of his back.  When she brought her hands back up, she used a little pressure in her thumbs, giving him a slight massage.  It drove him crazy.  </p><p>When it was just the point where things may have to be taken to the bedroom, she stopped.  Bucky turned around, and there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.  “Tease.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish.”  She grinned, obviously pleased at the effect she had on him. </p><p>“Oh, I intend to finish it.”  In a blink, Bucky grabbed her, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, and carried her to the edge of the pool.  </p><p>She realized his intention.  “James Buchanan, don’t you-”</p><p>He heaved her into the pool.  Waiting just long enough to see her go under with a splash, he jumped after her.  </p><p>This was a better way to end his workout.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Festival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oktoberfest</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She plopped down on the table, fanning her face to get some relief from the hot air.  October, and it was still in the high eighties.  </p>
<p>She and Bucky were on vacation at an annual beer festival in a cute Bavarian themed town.  Around them, historic buildings two or three stories high had been converted into hotels, restaurants, bars, and tourist shops.  Whimsical flowers in pastels and sweeping cursive letters adorned the outsides.  Between ice cream parlors and chocolate factories sat restaurants that served red cabbage, veal schnitzel, and spaetzle.  Every other door led to a pubhouse.  </p>
<p>The streets of the historic downtown had been blocked off for the festival.  Tents lined the road.  Some were simple eating areas; others had live music and dancing.  Bucky had led her into Ye Olde Towne Hall, where a ceremonial “Tapping of the Keg” would take place in just half an hour.  </p>
<p>The large room open to the public was designed for communal dining.  Long picnic-style wooden tables and matching benches lined the hall. Up front was a clear area set aside as a stage.  Men clad in lederhosen were bringing in supplies.  In the back was a mini food stand selling hotdogs in a buffet line.  To one side were several brewery stands, offering yet another way to purchase beer at the festival.</p>
<p>Bucky placed a beer in a plastic cup in front of her on the table, sitting down on the bench next to her.  The place was beginning to fill up.  Soon they’d be elbow to elbow with hundreds of others in the room.  </p>
<p>She adjusted the lilac flower crown on her head.  “What kind is this?”  </p>
<p>“Hefe,” Bucky relied.  It was only half past noon, but the purpose of Oktoberfest is to drink, so she dutifully lifted the beer to her lips and took a sip.  </p>
<p>Licking the foam off her lip, she said, “It’s all right.  I think I prefer the Pilsner.”  </p>
<p>“Hmm,” Bucky replied, taking a sip of his own beer.  Bucky discovered that although he couldn’t really get buzz going anymore, he still occasionally enjoyed a cold brew.  There was something refreshing about it, similar to a Coca-Cola on a hot day.  Perhaps it was the nostalgia of hanging with the boys at a pub after a successful mission.  It certainly wasn’t the taste.</p>
<p>Suddenly the town hall was filled with the chanting of “<em>U - S - A, U - S - A!</em>”  </p>
<p>Both she and Bucky turned at the noise.  A group of seven men wearing red, white, and blue tracksuits were marching through the half, beers steins in hand, entertaining the crowd.  </p>
<p>“This sure is an interesting place,” Bucky said.  </p>
<p>“I like it,” she replied.  “It’s a cute town.  I’m glad we decided to try something new.”</p>
<p>Bucky smiled at her and squeezed her hand.  His eyes found hers, and, for a moment, he emitted so much love and care for her from his gaze that she was forced to look away under the sheer weight of it.  “I’m glad we got to get away together,” Bucky told her.  “Just you and me.”</p>
<p>She smiled back at him.  “Me, too.”  Her heart raced a bit from the intensity of the moment.  For just a second, he made her feel as if the rest of the room didn’t exist.  She could only focus on his hand on hers, his gaze on her face.  </p>
<p>“You’re my best friend,” he said.  They weren’t quite at the stage of saying “I love you” yet, but in moments like this, she thought they weren’t too far off. </p>
<p>And even as her heart swelled, she quipped, “Oh no, don’t let Sam hear you say that.”  </p>
<p>Bucky smirked.  “He’s my friend, too. But it’s different.”</p>
<p>“How so?” she asked.  </p>
<p>“Well, for one, I don’t want to have sex with him.”</p>
<p>She laughed and took a drink of her beer.  “Sam is never going to believe I got you into lederhosen.  It’s a good look on you.”</p>
<p>Bucky pulled at one of the straps smugly.  “Totally worth it to see you in a barmaid dress.” </p>
<p>Her heart beat just a little faster.  </p>
<p>“Come here,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and using his metal arm to pull her closer.  “Let’s get a photo together.”</p>
<p>“That’s going to be blackmail material,” she laughed, but obliged by leaning in and smiling.  </p>
<p>Bucky took one normal photo before turning his head to the side and kissing her cheek in the second.  She grinned cheesily, he cheeks lightly pink.  Then he set the phone down.  Using his right hand, he held the back of her head and once again made that intense eye contact that made her feel like she was the only person in the room.  </p>
<p>All other noise in the hall was muted into the background.  Her palms started to sweat a little, and this time she couldn’t blame the October heat.  </p>
<p>“I-” he started, and for a second she thought he might say it, but after a pause, what came out was, “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.  You mean so much to me.”</p>
<p>And she'd be damned if her heart didn’t melt then and there.  She leaned in to meet his lips, engaging in a soft, sensual kiss that for him was as intense as his glare was for her. </p>
<p>He kept his hand on the back of her head, while his left hand held hers, lips still connected.  </p>
<p>Suddenly, chants of “<em>U - S - A, U - S - A!</em>” startled them out of their moment.  Noise flooded back in.  She let out a breathless laugh and pulled away, cheeks red.  The men in tracksuits were making their way out of the building.</p>
<p>“I don’t want to do this with anyone else, either,” she said, and he gave her hand one final squeeze.  </p>
<p>A gong sounded, signaling the time as one o’clock.  Up at the front, a man took to the microphone to announce the tapping of the keg and the official beginning of Oktoberfest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Yoga</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>unwinding after a long day</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She lay on her yoga mat, twisting at the hips to touch her knee to the floor. Her arm went out the other direction, turning her collar bone to the ceiling.  </p>
<p>She was sore, a result of expending too much energy on a climb slightly outside her ability level.  Bucky had warned her, but when her friend Shelly, an experienced alpinist, mentioned the group trip to some rocks, she couldn’t stand the idea of missing out.  Shelly forgot to mention the three mile hike to reach the rock face and may have undersold the sheer size of the climb.  </p>
<p>She had been using borrowed equipment, underprepared, and way in over her head.  Really, it was pure luck she hadn’t gotten herself killed.  </p>
<p>At home on her mat, she lost herself in the yin stretches.  Her breath steadied as she reflected on her experience.  Before she was halfway done with the climb, her shoulders and calves ached.  Her fingers and knees had scrapes.  Her inexperience had held up the line behind her.  Unfortunately, she was too stubborn and determined not to be left behind.   If Bucky had been there, he probably would have made her come back down.  </p>
<p>And now her mind was on Bucky.  </p>
<p>He worked late tonight, as he had the past few nights.  This usually meant a mission was coming up.  Prep work took time, and no agent was willing to go in unprepared.  A slight bit of anxiety tugged at her heart.  She wondered how long he would be away from their bed this time. </p>
<p>As if her thoughts had power, the door clicked shut, and Bucky entered their house.  She didn’t open her eyes as she changed positions, transferring into savasana.  The cadence of his footsteps relaxed her even further into the pose.  </p>
<p>Bucky watched her for a second.  He took in the atmosphere she had created by dimming the living room lights, burning a single lavender-scented candle, and the low volume on the TV as the yoga instructor led her YouTube followers through the evening routine.  It didn’t take him long to deduce that she had overextended herself on her climb.  Though, he was sure, she would never admit it.  </p>
<p>Bucky kicked off his shoes and slung his jacket over the back of the recliner.  He moved silently, laying down next to her on the floor.  </p>
<p>Her breath changed slightly, indicating that she was aware of his presence, though she said nothing.  </p>
<p>He was content, for a moment, just to admire her.  Then, when he had taken in her appearance - looking for signs of injury or wrongness, an old habit - he ran his fingertips up her side.  </p>
<p>The touch was featherlight on her shirt.  It sent goosebumps up her torso.  Finally, she reacted to his presence.  Eyes still closed, she smiled. </p>
<p>There were no teeth, but it was all Bucky needed.  He leaned his lips down to hers, letting them linger sensually.  </p>
<p>After a moment, she finally relented and met his gaze.  </p>
<p>It was his turn to smile, and in that moment, she felt like the happiest, most loved woman alive.  “Hi,” she said.  </p>
<p>“Hi,” he returned, and leaned in to kiss her again, this time a little more deeply.  His hand brushed her cheek, feeling the chill of her smooth, freckled skin.  Her hair was still damp from her shower.  “How was rock climbing?” </p>
<p>“Incredible,” she fibbed with a smile.  </p>
<p>“Liar,” he laughed.  “I did warn you.”</p>
<p>“You did,” she admitted.  Then she thought for a second.  “But I did it.  I made it to the top.  And that was a good feeling.”</p>
<p>Bucky heard the pride in her voice and felt a little pride himself in turn. This was the girl he picked.  This stubborn, determined girl who never had the good sense to throw in the towel.  “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” he asked.  </p>
<p>“Everyday,” she said, and leaned up to capture his lips one more time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The First Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a car accident</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At the DMV of all places.  Who gets into a car accident at the DMV? </p>
<p>She released a deep breath, blowing her frustration out of her body.  Her fingers slowly released their grip on the steering wheel. </p>
<p> At least it wasn't her fault this time.  Well, not entirely anyway.  </p>
<p>They had backed out at the same time.  That made it just as much his fault as hers.  </p>
<p>She looked into her rearview mirror, taking in the scene.  The man who had hit her drove a small sized truck.  His frame took up a good chunk of space in the cab, and she found herself amused at the absurdity of this large man packing himself into such a small space.  </p>
<p>As he exited the truck, she noted that he was quite large, more so than she had anticipated.  He stood tall, around six feet if she had to guess.  And he was built.  A cotton shirt draped deliciously over his muscled chest.  Over it, he wore an open plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled down.  She noticed he wore gloves despite the warm weather of the spring day.  He looked like he would be more at home in a large size truck, one with an extended bed and more horsepower than any driver could possibly need. </p>
<p>His brows furrowed in thought.  Though he looked relaxed, she had the distinct impression that it was a practiced facade. Under other circumstances, she may have been wary of this man.  However, here, surrounded by witnesses lined up to get into the building and take their number, she felt relatively safe.  </p>
<p>She realized he was waiting for her and took the key out of the ignition.  Grabbing her wallet, she exited her own vehicle, a new Hyundai Sonata.  It was the first car she had ever purchased that wasn't preowned, something that gave her pride.  </p>
<p>He met her eyes as she began walking toward him, ready to assess the damage.  His gaze was intense, and his eyes were so… blue.  She felt herself flush and looked to where their vehicles collided for a distraction.  </p>
<p>"Damn," she said.  </p>
<p>"My truck really did a number to your car."  He was right.  Though his truck was small, it was sturdy.  It had barely a scratch.  </p>
<p>Her Hyundai, on the other hand, had taken a big hit.  The cars hit at an angle. The corner of his truck sank into the rear right side of her car.  The bumper popped out and dangled just a few inches above the ground.  The taillight had a crack in it, and the paint had been scraped away all down the side.  The dent, however, was the most concerning.  It would require paint, and most likely be an eyesore forever painted on her poor Sonata.</p>
<p>For a second, she wanted to cry.  This car was new, and that type of damage was expensive, no matter the insurance. There would be time for emotion later, though, so she swallowed it down.  She didn't want to lose any more pride in front of their audience.  </p>
<p>"Damn," she said again.  </p>
<p>"I can fix it," he offered.  He wanted to appease her.  He wasn't sure why.  It was a mutual collision after all.  They would exchange information out of formality, but the insurances would fight on both sides against paying, so it was pointless.  </p>
<p>She looked at him and pursed her lips.  "It was my fault, too," she admitted, though the words hurt.  "You don't have to do that. Your insurance won't cover it.  It'll be expensive."  She didn't know why she was being so civil about it.  Perhaps his handsome appearance threw her off. Briefly, she wondered if she'd have reacted the same if this were someone different, someone a little less attractive.  Or someone who looked like he had a dollar to spare.  </p>
<p>He ran a hand through his hair.  "It won't be too much trouble.  A little paint, a new light.  I can do the work myself."  He looked unsure as he spoke, as if he weren't sure why he was offering either.  </p>
<p>"You a mechanic?" she asked. </p>
<p>"No," he admitted.  "Not really.  But I know my way around a car.  It'll look good as new, and if not, I know a guy who can help." </p>
<p>Confident for a not-mechanic, she thought to herself. </p>
<p>She briefly considered his proposal.  Realistically, he didn't have to offer.  But she would be lying to herself if she said the offer wasn't tempting.  A small spark of hope opened in her chest.  She did love that car.  </p>
<p>"I could pay for the parts," she offered. Mutual wreck, mutual solution.</p>
<p>The expression on his face let her know he did not like that idea, but he gave a short nod.  </p>
<p>"You sure you don't mind?"  She chewed her bottom lip, already feeling guilty.</p>
<p>"No, it won't be any trouble," he replied.  "Why don't I give you my number?  I can work on it later today and this weekend."  </p>
<p>He pulled out his phone and typed her number and name as she recited them.  "I'll message you so you have my information, too."</p>
<p>A few seconds later, her phone dinged, signaling a message.  She waved her phone in the air and said, "Thank you.  Really.  I appreciate it."  </p>
<p>He nodded at her.  "See you later."  Then they both reluctantly turned to get in their vehicles.  </p>
<p>Inside her car, she adjusted the rearview mirror and buckled her seatbelt, feeling slightly good about the day despite the worry of her hurt car.  Then, curious, she pulled at her phone to check the notifications.  </p>
<p>She had a single message from an unknown number.  There was only one word. </p>
<p>"Bucky."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a bit of snow</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She warmed her hands on the mug.  </p>
<p>It was a cold one tonight.  Outside, the sky dumped enormous powdery flakes of snow on the already white ground. </p>
<p>She blew on the hot chocolate, waiting to take a sip until the temperature had gone down and her hands had lost their chilly bite.  </p>
<p>Bucky came to stand beside her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her in just a little closer.  He had a mug of his own, which he sipped without caution.  “It really is coming down, isn’t it?” he commented.  He could barely see past the porch through the falling snow.</p>
<p>“I want you to take a sick day tomorrow,” she said.  Her job, teaching English at the middle school level, had already called off work the next day.  “I don’t want you driving in this.”</p>
<p>He kissed the crown of her head, sighing.  Through the window, he watched as a gust of wind blew the snow almost horizontal with the ground.  The lights flickered. “The bad guys don’t wait for the storm to clear,” he replied.  “Besides, it’s just a bit of snow.  The truck can handle that just fine.”</p>
<p>Bucky’s truck, a black Dodge Ram that had been purchased to help maintain the property, was quite the upgrade from the one she’d hit a few years ago.  </p>
<p>“I’m sure it can,” she agreed.  “But under that snow is going to be a layer of ice, if there isn’t one already.”  </p>
<p>She wasn’t wrong. This was not the east coast weather he had grown up with. Here, in their little corner of the world, the weather was as random as the answers from an 8-ball, and the temperatures ranged from twenty degrees in dead night to fifty degrees with the sun.  Similar to Seattle, other parts of the world made fun of her city for shutting down in a snowstorm, but they failed to realize that it wasn’t the snow that was the problem.  It was what was underneath.  </p>
<p>The high temperatures melted some of the snow during the day.  Then at night, the low temperatures froze it back up in the form of black ice on the roadway. In perfect conditions, like the ones now, a new layer of snow would blanket the top, creating a deception of safety on the streets. Locals knew to hunker down and stay inside; unfortunately, there were many others in town who had grown up elsewhere and didn’t see the danger.  </p>
<p>“You’re not on mission right now, Bucky.  Can’t you work from home?  Just for tomorrow?”  She didn’t mean for it to sound like a whine, but still there was a hint.  </p>
<p>“Sorry sweetheart,” he stated regretfully, “I work in intelligence, and I can’t bring that home.  There are too many security issues.”  He took another sip of his mug and tried to ignore the regret that seeped into his chest as he thought of spending a lazy snow day at home with this beloved.  </p>
<p>Her forehead wrinkled in concern, and she tried to remind herself that her husband was not a normal man with a normal job.  Realistically, a truck sliding in the snow had little chance of taking him out.  </p>
<p>Still, Bucky read her expression, and decided maybe now was the perfect time for a lazy snow day.  “How ‘bout we turn out the lights and put on a movie?” he suggested.  “We can lay on the couch, and I’ll rub your back.”</p>
<p>“You’re trying to distract me,” she accused.  Then, after a pause, she said, “and it’s working.  But I get to pick the movie.”</p>
<p>As she turned away to grab the remote, the lights went out.  She looked to Bucky, just able to see his face in the light reflecting off the snow from their open window.  </p>
<p>“I’ll get the candles,” he said, and headed toward the garage.  She went to the thermostat and double-checked that the generator had kicked on.  There would be no frozen pipes in this house, unlike the apartment they shared when they first lived together.  That was a nightmare.</p>
<p>Bucky came back with a box of battery powered artificial candles.  One by one, he placed them around the living room and kitchen buffet, creating a light glow in the house.  There were flashlights if they needed real light, but these at least allowed the couple to see well enough.  They also created a nice ambiance for a cold night spent cuddling indoors.  </p>
<p>“There goes Netflix,” she said matter-of-factly.  “What should we do now.”  </p>
<p>“We could throw in a DVD,” Bucky suggested.  </p>
<p>“We can’t turn on the TV,” she reminded him.  </p>
<p>“Dang.  That’s right,” Bucky replied. </p>
<p>“We could turn on the laptop and watch some YouTube?” </p>
<p>“No internet,” Bucky reminded her.  </p>
<p>They both laughed.  </p>
<p>“I forget how much we rely on electricity,” she said.  “We can’t read, because there isn’t enough light.  What about a board game?”</p>
<p>Bucky thought about it, mulling over the idea of a game.  He enjoyed how competitive she got. Admittedly, he sometimes let her win because of how sour her mood got when she lost, even though she tried to hide it.  </p>
<p>“Actually,” he said, “What if we just, I don’t know, did nothing?”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>He took her by the shoulders and rubbed his hands lovingly along her upper arms before pulling her in for a hug.  “I mean, we have this hot chocolate.” He glanced at her full mug.  “There’s a storm outside.  There’s no light, no TV, no internet.  What if we just accept that we’re going to be unplugged for a bit and cuddled on the couch?”  </p>
<p>She smiled against his chest, warmth spreading from her bellybutton up toward her heart.  Bucky could be quite the romantic sometimes, even if he didn’t realize it. </p>
<p>“That sounds nice.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“All right,” Bucky backed up a couple steps to the couch, maintaining eye contact and pulling her with him by the hand.  He reclined back, pulling his legs clad in flannel bottoms up onto the cushions.  Then he helped her situate herself on his lap until they were both comfortable.  </p>
<p>She rested her head on his chest and reached a cold hand under his shirt and rubbed the raised scar from where he’d be shot protecting her. </p>
<p>He took one big sip of his hot chocolate, noticing that all the marshmallows had melted, and set it aside.  Finally, he wrapped his arms around her, and held her as though he loved her fiercely, which he did.  </p>
<p>And that is how they stayed all night.</p>
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